The scent of Magic
by Jaded gypsy
Summary: Is Draco truly capable of killing another student to prove himself and become one of the Death Eaters, or will he just play with her for a while?
1. Scent of Magic

**Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter (J.K.**** Rowling does), I don't own the High clan (Lady Rhiyana does). The Lady has also been a Goddess in not only letting me borrow, but being a very nervous newbie's Beta reader. You rock, Petal. **

**Scent of magic**

He casually brushed past her, either ignoring or oblivious to her presence, the contact leaving his scent on her robes. She watched as he strode confidently away from her knowing she was now marked with his particular heady scent. 

He smelled like sex, leather and Dark Majicks.

The very air was permeated with his _intoxicating_ aroma, unique to him. Not overwhelming, but noticeable nonetheless. 

The leather scent was not unexpected, due to the presence of skin-tight calfskin leather pants, easily noticeable under his casually fastened black robe. The way they moulded to his trim, athletic body was positively sinful. His every movement took on a more sensual inflection, the every shift of his body apart of some unseen play, or ballet, his every gesture one of grace, fluidity and sensuality. Enough to send every female in the vicinity into heart palpitations. 

The hint of sex could be a combination of the natural pheromones he gave off and his mere presence in the area. Since puberty – in fact a couple of years before that turning point in his life – he had been plagued by women between eight and eighty, drawn into his presence by his natural charisma and looks. 

Those of an age closer to him had had a more extreme reaction. Rumours had flown through the ranks of the Slytherin house and filtered out into the school of his sexual accomplishments and prowess. Since the tender age of twelve, so the rumours say, when he had been initiated into the art of pleasuring a woman by an accommodating friend of his mothers on a particularly interesting holiday break from Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had discovered how much power the Art of Seduction allowed him over the fairer sex. 

Not that he had ever underestimated the power that a woman could wield in her own right – living with Narcissa Malfoy would educate anyone on the dangerous power of a woman scorned or thwarted. ****

Draco had learned the subtle art and implemented it wisely. Which was why it was entirely possible that the reason he smelled like sex was because he had just engaged in the act. Undoubtedly with Miss Pansy Parkinson, who had made herself – all too obviously – available to Draco. At his beck and call, as it were. 

The Dark Majicks; that on the other hand was intriguing. While he had always drawn around him an aura of the forbidden, never, to Ginny's knowledge, had he ever … _smelt_ like performer of the Dark Arts. 

Ginny Weasley had been blessed with a talent, the extremely rare and coveted talent of being able to – for lack of a better analogy – smell Magic. It was a trait that she had inherited from her mother's side of the family, passed down mostly to females, with only one male having been born with the talent in the past four generations. It also explained why Mrs Weasley had always been able to divine exactly what kind of scrapes her adventurous offspring had been involved in. 

Draco had always smelt_… intriguing_. Being an apt pupil, learned in the art of magic, he had a gift for creating sweet magic, with a slight tang, which could be attributed to his small reckless streak. It was like chocolate. And just as stimulating.

But now his scent was different. His association with the Death Eaters, a known but unspoken factor among the students of Hogwarts, had opened up numerous opportunities for a wizard of Draco's talent and strength to learn not only about the more acceptable, common magics, but also the forbidden, so-called 'Dark Majicks'. 

Ginny had observed how, over time, he had changed, how his magic had changed. Draco had always been an exceptional, albeit under-achieving student. The influence of his family name, the power of the High Clan- which was essentially the organization consisting of the older Wizarding families, a magical oligarchy established during the Binding of the Old Majicks and the forging of the foundations of the modern magical world, who's influence reached into every corner of Wizarding world- and its affiliates behind the Malfoy family, and Draco's own personal clout amongst the Slytherin children and those of other houses because of his association with people such as Crabbe and Goyle, had allowed him to 'coast' through much of his schooling. 

Even those amongst the teaching staff who proclaimed loudly that they were not afraid of the repercussions of failing Draco in a particular subject, even going so far as to actively target him because of his House and family name (as well as his amazing arrogant attitude and treatment of the other students)**,** thought twice before failing Draco Malfoy for what amounted to incredibly average school work. 

Ginny couldn't take her eyes off him. At the age of seventeen, Draco had acquired an air of sophistication and power that he had only aspired to at the beginning of his schooling at Hogwarts. He had grown from a somewhat weedy, sharp-faced, cruel-looking child, into a tall, confidant, self-possessed young man. 

Not handsome, like some of the other boys in his year, but almost… pretty. Definitely striking. Just short of shoulder length white-blond hair, more often than not tied back in the quintessential aristocratic queue, with arresting grey/blue eyes. 

On any other person Draco's features would have looked feminine, but on him, they only emphasised the almost feline magnetism that radiated out of him. 

She shivered. He had only brushed past her, as they, and a group of other Hogwarts students exited the gate of the school and started down the path that led to Hogsmeade. He strode to the front of the group, as if there was no question that he was to lead their little flock. 

Ginny felt herself becoming frustrated and flustered, and wished that she hadn't ventured out into Hogsmeade with this group, instead waiting until the next weekend trip. But she knew that she could not wait. Hermione's birthday was coming soon, and she had forgotten to get her a present. While the Weasley family as a whole had always been a thrifty lot, even after Ginny's father had gained a post as Minister in the Wizarding government, and the fact that Hermione had expressed that she had no need of a gift for Ginny to show her affection, Ginny had been waiting to get this particular gift for her for a long time. 

She knew that Hermione had been getting increasingly irritated over the fact that the only things that Ron and Harry ever bought her for her birthday were books. Or book vouchers. Or desk sets. Ginny had saved up money that she had made through tutoring students in her own and lower grades in advanced Charms. And she had to purchase it today. 

Unfortunately, her plans for being on one of the earlier trips of the day had been thwarted when she had run into Snape and been given a detention. Because of that she had had to resort to being on the last Hogsmeade trip of the day. With the Slytherin group.

Draco Malfoy was of course there, along with his henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and various other students from the sixth and seventh year. 

Ginny wasn't the only non-Slytherin in the group; there were four Ravenclaw students, one girl from Hufflepuff and two other Gryffindor children. But the majority of the students there were Slytherin. 

Ginny was extremely uncomfortable, as not one of the students there was one that she talked to. The two Gryffindor students were two boys in her own year that she had never taken the time to converse with. Mostly because they spent most of their time chasing after the more attractive girls in their year, the ranks of which Ginny did not include herself. Nor, as it seemed, did anyone else. Not that she particularly minded being exceedingly plain – except of course for her shock of red hair. She had in fact deliberately cultivated that 'plain Jane' image. 

After the debacle of her throwing herself at Harry Potter after the House cup the previous year, Ginny had made no overt gestures to draw attention, and embarrass herself further. After Harry had turned her…well _proposition_…down, she had thought being the archetypical wallflower would be her best option. 

Oh, Harry had been very understanding. Almost disgustingly sympathetic to her plight, but it does effect one when the object of not only one's affections, but hopes and stupid romantic daydreams had had to pull you aside and tell you that they could 'never look at you as less than a sister, and all the love and ties that that entailed, and they could never feel for you like _that_'. It does tend to slightly dent one's self confidence in matters of the heart. 

And then he'd explained how he didn't feel it fair that _anyone_ place any romantic expectations on him, seeing as how Professor Trelawney had predicted his imminent death just before his last quidditch match the previous morning. Ginny had not found a large amount of humour in that. 

Ginny felt a jostle from behind, bringing her back to the present. 'Watch where you're walking, Weasley," someone sneered at her from a source from her behind and left.

'Sorry.' She mumbled, before moving through the group closer to the middle. Unlike her brother and Harry, Ginny knew when it was time to hold her tongue. Being stuck amongst a group of Slytherins happened to be one of those times.

They had gotten close enough to be within sight of the town, and Ginny wanted her business over with before dark settled, but after a dubious glance at the darkening evening sky, resigned herself to the doubtful honour of being escorted by a group of mostly Slytherin students after full night, hoping only to reach the town before most of the shops had closed.

The disruption of the solitude had caught the attention of the group's leader. Draco turned towards the disturbance, eyes narrowed in a frown, as if distracted from deep thought. 'What are you doing here, Weasley? You weren't scheduled to go on this trip. I would have been told.'

Which was true. As the only prefect of the unchaperoned group, Draco was – to all intents and purposes – in charge. The school had passed the policy not too long ago that the load heaped upon a teachers shoulders could be somewhat lessened by the removal of this task. As policy stood, a group – a small group – of sixth and seventh year students could travel to Hogsmeade under the supervision of a prefect.

How Draco Malfoy had acquired the position, one that represented the school's utmost trust in the person and their ability to be trusted with the power and the responsibility that came with it had baffled the rest of the student body. Or it would have if they hadn't assumed that Professor Snape had had a hand in his appointment. 

Explanations varied, including anything from allowing Draco to freely roam the halls at night for the purpose of clandestine romantic assignations – some even holding the belief that they were with Snape himself – to it being a harmless favour to Draco's father from Snape. ****

It mattered not. Draco had acquired a position of responsibility and used it to his advantage. 

By that time the group had halted, and circled around both herself and Draco as if eager to have an uninterrupted view of any upcoming confrontation. 

'You heard me, Weasley. You're not supposed to be here.' He sneered.

'Look, I was supposed to be on one of the earlier trips but got stuck on this one.' She let loose an exasperated breath 'It can't be that much trouble, really. I'll stay out of your way, buy what I came for, and go home. Easy as that.' She said, snapping her fingers.

'Come on Draco.' Blaise interrupted, 'It can't be too much of a problem for her to come. She might even enjoy spending the time with us. Get to know us a little better,' he said evocatively, wiggling his eyebrows in an overly suggestive, almost comical way.

'Ahh… yeah.  You won't even know I'm there,' Ginny continued after a dubious glance at Blaise. 

'It might be fun, Draco,' Pansy inserted huskily. It sounded like she had been practicing the smoky-sounding voice and was tickled that she had a chance to show the results. She sashayed over to where Draco stood, running her hands over his covered chest when she reached his side, in an almost _entreating_ way. But her eyes never left Ginny. '_Think of what we could do_,' she whispered into his ear. 

Draco was impassive and still, as if internally debating the pros and cons of the situation. Ginny was not quite sure what had happened, but she _knew_ that they weren't talking about just the trip to Hogsmeade anymore. 'We have plenty of time.' Pansy continued.

Ginny was made somewhat uncomfortable by the slightly… well _lecherous_ looks she was getting from the group, but decided to ignore them, believing them to be an intimidation tactic, an almost automatic reaction from the Slytherin students.

'Draco.' He turned to face Crabbe, who had been watching to progress of the sky intently, ignoring the soap opera unfolding before him. 'It's time.'

Silence reigned as each person in the circle watched the others, in a moment of supreme understanding. 

She was almost scared to ask. 'Time for what?' she inquired, hesitantly. 

Everybody turned to face her; quiet and still, like condemning sentinels, until Draco reached under his robes and drew out a white mask with a flourish. It was then that Ginny realised that none of them were wearing their Hogwarts uniforms, but completely black robes; not charcoal black, like the uniforms, but midnight black, like only a certain group of people wore… people whom also felt compelled from time to time to don white masks and reek havoc upon the Wizarding world. 

'Dear Lady, no…' Ginny whispered, before Draco aimed his wand at her chest.

'_Petrificus__ totalis._'


	2. Bound by Magic

I know it has been a long time in getting this second chapter up- uni has been a pain, and this chapter was pretty difficult to write, as you'll find out when reading it.

_WARNING- guys, some not-so-nice things happen this chapter. If you are easily offended, please just give it a miss. While not a vital part in the plot of the story, one particular section that may be disturbing is important in establishing the personality of a character. So if you are slightly squeamish, give the last section a miss, and just assume that Pansy is a very disturbed little bunny._

Disclaimer:- I do not own 'Harry Potter', it's characters, plot lines, or history. It is the property of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Bros. I just borrow. And even though I didn't _exactly_ ask personally, if _you_ want to borrow, you _will need to ask_. 

Special mention to Lady Rhiyana- who is every inch the Lady, allowing me to unload my woes at her feet, and not scold me when I ignored uni to get this out of my system.

To Chris, who told me about pracs I would otherwise have missed while typing this.

And finally to those who have reviewed the first chapter and told me I didn't suck (to my face) Blurred Riddle, Wolviesrouge, Sharlene, Jane Valar, August, Shyla, Linda, Seek, Netty, and intriguingly enough, Death. You guys are my inspiration. Ta for the review. They are my Manna (I'm such a review whore). _Wink, wink, hint, hint  ;)._

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'Petrificus totalis'

Ginny was in a state of shock. How could this be happening? Here? Now?

Everyone knew that Voldemort had agents on the inside of the school, and that children –and not just Slytherin children either -were training to be Death Eaters. But to so blatantly make an attack on those supposedly protected by the school. Right under their noses. 

Horrific. 

And cunning. 

Who would have expected it? 

Who would have dreamed?

Ginny knew that what she saw that day would haunt her dreams forever. She would never be able to erase the horror from her memory.

First, after Draco have petrified her, her and the other students had floated her behind them, inches off the ground, as they entered the forest on the side of the path, just before the entrance to Hogsmead. 

Because Draco was controlling her movements, when the other students faded into the forest after he had silently signalled to split up, she had remained with him. 

Alone.

In the forest with Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy wearing Death Eater robes. 

Fan-bloody-tastic.

He weaved his way around the trees, never making a sound. Ginny had only a vague impression of their movements, not being fully cognizant of her surroundings and the movements of her companion. 

Hermione had tried to explain to Ginny what it had felt like, being petrified. Being a difficult topic to adequately explain, as well as being part of a time period that Ginny had never felt entirely comfortable discussing, had hindered Hermione's explanation. And now Ginny had no need of it. 

It was as if she was in a great fog, seeing everything occur around her, but through a kind of filter; like she could not interact with anything around her. It was hazy and indistinct, and time had no meaning.

She felt like mist. Formless. And cold.

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Ginny knew that his ability to move through the forest soundlessly could not be through the use of magic; she could not smell it at all. It must be a personal skill. Or maybe if was the spell; distorting her senses, confusing her. And then the thought disappeared out of her head.

Ginny was sure that he must have said something to her, but she couldn't quite remember what… she had trouble concentrating on one subject without being distracted or confused.

He stopped abruptly, in the darkening shadow of an ancient oak tree. There he set her down upon the wet, mossy ground, and released the bonds that held her- only momentarily- before quickly replacing them with a more localized freezing spell. 

Ginny experienced a sudden rush of vertigo as the spell was lifted, taking a few seconds to reorientate herself before attempting to move. And discovering that she was, once again bound by magic.

"Can you hear me now, Virginia?" he asked

Ginny attempted to reply, although not with a polite 'Why, yes Draco, and Thank-you for asking', but found that she could not speak. After a few moments of struggling, she resigned herself to a perturbed nod of the head. 

"Good. There's something I-" Draco became cut off when he spun around to face the bushes to his right, apparently having heard a noise. 

"Draco. Ahh, there you are." Pansy whispered as she entered their small clearing. "The others are right behind me." Seconds after she stated this the other children followed behind her. Ginny could no longer tell them apart because in the time that they had been separated, everyone, bar Draco and Pansy had donned their white masks. 

"Is everyone here?" Draco asked after everyone had settled themselves into a disordered pack. 

"All accounted for, Malfoy." Blaise Zambini's disdainful voice floated out anonymously.

"Everything is quiet in the town. No sounds that they have been warned." Crabbe inserted. Ginny recognised him out of the group purely because of his bulk.

"Fantastic," Blaise quipped, "but what are we supposed to do with _her_?" he said, nodding towards Ginny's still form. 

In the time that the other students had entered the clearing, Ginny had not made any overt movements, not wanting to draw attention to herself. While no longer immediately in fear of her life, she wasn't willing to risk angering any of the young Death Eaters unnecessarily. 

"We can't leave her here alone." Draco said. "Does anyone want to volunteer to …baby-sit her?"

There was an uncomfortable silence: no one wanted to volunteer to miss out of the festivities. Pansy made an unattractive sound of frustration.

"Oh, I'll do it." she replied. There was a hushed murmur among the students. This was unheard of. Pansy had never sat out on the fun- especially surprising on this occasion, as this was the first unsupervised 'Event' to have been approved for the hopefuls.

 "I'm not saying that I'm not going in; I'll just stay here for the first bit. Then someone comes to relieve me.

"Besides," she said turning to Draco, "You know I hate getting blood on my robes. You guys can have the pleasure of doing the dirty work.

"Just remember to not finish without me." She added as the group moved into their positions; hidden amongst the shrubbery flanking the northern-most house in the village.

Draco approached her, never once making a sound on the moss-covered ground. 

"Pansy?" he said quietly. She practically jumped in surprise, her rueful smirk acknowledging the fact that, unless you constantly had your eye on him, Draco would undoubtedly sneak up on you. "What is it, oh 'Fearless Leader'?"

"Nothing vitally important. Just a friendly little warning. Thank-you for looking after this little one here," he said, stroking Ginny's cheek. She flinched, and shot dagger-eyes at him, and he just sneered in reply. 

Because he was looking into her eyes he did not see the look Pansy directed at him, having noticed the change in binding spell upon Ginny. Her eyes narrowed speculatively. 

His High-clan upbringing obviously having been ingrained into him to a point where he would never-under_ any _circumstances- forget his manners, he sincerely thanked Pansy. "One of us needs to be there to …_supervise_ the festivities, so that they do not get out of hand.

"But, if I find while I was away, that you hurt or damaged her, I would be upset. _Very_ upset. I've seen the way that you treat your toys. I would like her kept intact. Please." 

"What importance does she have for you, Draco?" she directed towards his back as he turned to leave.

"Don't be stupid, Pansy. She is a Minister's daughter. She could be very useful later."

He turned to join the group. "Oh, and Pansy? I do mean that; about being upset. You would not enjoy the experience, and I would not like that to paint any further…_events_ that involve the two of us." He lowered the volume of his voice. "Especially those events that involved only the two of us."

Pansy laughed a tinkling, musical laugh, that was crafted to draw attention, and utilized as such; in the High Clan, every advantage was a weapon when used against someone unaware of its significance.

"You know what, Draco?" she said, sauntering over to Ginny, and circling her, as if inspecting something unusual and unexpected.

"I think I know why you don't want to kill her" She waved an impatient hand, "on top of the whole 'not drawing attention to ourselves' thing."

Draco lifted an eyebrow; and obvious sign of his casual disinterest in the subject. But he did not comment.

"You want to try her out, don't you? You want to see what the great 'Boy-who-lived' is screwing in his in between Quidditch Matches?"

"Don't be crude, Pansy," Draco admonished, "it does not become you. Besides… anyone can see that she is untouched. Unbroken. She is too innocent." He smiled. It was not a friendly smile, and one Ginny would not have been _at all_ comfortable seeing. "Something I hope to soon cure her of."

Draco could hear Pansy's inelegant snort and muttered "like she would know the first thing about pleasing you, unless she has a natural affinity for leather and barnyard animals" remark as he walked away, but chose to ignore it.

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Ginny did not feel particularly comfortable in the dubious care of Pansy Parkinson. For some reason, however bizarre, she did not think that Pansy had her welfare at heart.

"So, Weasley" Pansy drawled, "what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" she let loose a bark of laughter, obviously highly amused at her own sense of humour.

She stood up and walked to where Ginny was standing rigidly propped against a large tree.

"You know, I always wondered about you. The others I can kind-of understand; Harry is what he is. He has no choice but to follow the path laid out for him. Ron, he needed someone like Potter to stand behind, to be a sidekick to- because, lets face it; your brother is not great genius or hero, nothing special at all really. And Hermione, well she is the- and I use the term loosely- 'Brains' of the troop. 

"But you intrigue me. There had to be _something_ about you, something special for Him to have noticed you. To have used you." She laughed at Ginny's surprised look. "You think that everyone didn't know. Ha. Little fool. We knew before they did. We just chose to … observe proceedings before we stepped in hastily. And then it was unnecessary."  

Pansy stepped back. "I'm bored. I think that they have had enough time to have their fun. And to have left some for me." She lifted her wand and softly recited and incantation that lifted Ginny off the ground. "Come. There is entertainment to be had." 

She walked towards the town, trailing Ginny behind her.

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Pansy knelt over the frightened boy, straddling his lap, her once pretty face twisted and cruel, resembling something not quite human. "Now, aren't you a pretty one. I like you." 

She bent down over his face and whispered into his ear, "Do you like me?" 

The child, who could not have been more than ten or eleven years old- possibly the latter as he had been in town, and not confined to the school, as he would have been if he was a Hogwarts student- was visibly terrified. He shook in terror, and yet must have somehow known that he had to answer Pansy, or suffer her wrath, because he vigorously nodded his head.

"Oh, isn't that wonderful. We shall have so much more fun if you like me as much as I like you." 

She sat back up; yet at the same time ground herself down further onto his lap. "But…somehow, I think you're fibbing." 

Ginny could not believe it. Pansy lifted her forefinger into her mouth, letting it sit just inside of that wet cavern, playing with her bottom lip, almost looking…shy. Like some nervous little schoolgirl with a crush. If her hair had been out, Ginny was sure she would have twirled it around her finger.

"That's ok. We can still have fun. _I promise._" She whispered to him as she once again leaned over his body. 

The placing of her hands on his wrists must have been apart of her twisted fantasy, because with the curse that bound him, he was paralysed from the neck down, unable to move.

She licked him up the side of his face, tasting the tears that had run down it, before forcing her tongue into his mouth. He whimpered. "See," she said, "I told you that you would like it."

Ginny thought that she would be sick, watching Pansy terrify the child, but she could not look away. 

His eyes, so blue; eyes that would never view the world with childlike innocence anymore. 

Eyes, so filled with terror, but retaining that last spark of…hope. 

Hope, forged in the belief that this silent watcher would somehow save him. 

Hope, that slowly faded, as Ginny did not move forward to help him as Pansy slowly made her way down his body, cutting and removing his clothes as she went. 

Hope that finally died a painful death as Pansy proceeded to rape his soul, before moving onto his delicate, innocent body. 

And yet his eyes did not leave Ginny's. 

Although ripped from his comfortable world, and set adrift in a place terror and pain, he …remained. 

His mind, though damaged after seeing his home burned, his parents killed before his eyes, and his younger sister carted off to meet her undoubtedly more physically brutal fate in the guise of a very eager and enthusiastic Gregory Goyle, still retained some shred of sanity, with Ginny as his anchor. 

And no matter how much Ginny wanted to look away, she knew that she couldn't. 

She owed him this- this bearing witness. And so they remained. He, under the terrifying control of a sadist, and she frozen, unable to move, to help. 

Only to be his sentinel against the darkness rising in his soul, and his witness against a monster. Despair saturating her, Ginny stood, for what was surely eons, her only sign of life the uncontrollable tears running down her face.

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